Hard-Ass Is Here: Hard-Ass Series, #1

Dedication

David, I love you. Hopefully you know that already. You’re amazingly supportive and patient. Thank you for cooking dinner and tiptoeing around the house when I’m on a writing jag. Thank you also to my kids for keeping reasonably quiet during the day when I write. I love you two goof balls.

To my wonderful parents and my two amazing sisters, thank you for always making me believe I can succeed at anything I try.

Josh, you have been such an inspiration to me. I can’t imagine this comes as a surprise. Thank you so much for everything you do for the genre and for me personally.

Acknowledgment

A special thank-you to the crit group: Jennifer, Kari, L.C., Pender, Jrose, Lasha, Josephine. Thank you!

And also, Kathleen Fawn Calhoun, thank you for holding my hand and being so wonderful throughout.

Chapter One

What the hell is this? I scowled as Randy dumped a huge, sloppy pile of files and data sheets onto my desk.

The new hard-ass is here. Randy’s voice had the usual respect he afforded the higher-ups. None. "He wants us to go through all of these, ASAP, Randy said. He’s here already?" I swiveled my chair and peeked out of my office to see a man standing with the bigwigs in front of the shimmering Christmas tree in the lobby. The new guy was about forty, black hair, at least six feet tall, with broad shoulders impeccably encased in what was probably a two-thousand-dollar designer jacket. His jaw was tense, belying the air of relaxed confidence he was doing his best to sell.

The guy allowed a polite smile as Sally, the receptionist, pulled a piece of shiny silver tinsel from his shoulder. Knowing Sally, she’d be positioning him under the mistletoe first chance she got.

Where did he come from? I asked.

Your dreams?

Why didn’t anyone tell me he was already here? I asked, ignoring Randy’s sarcasm.

"I am telling you."

"I mean sooner. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Did you explain to him we’ve compiled this already?"

I tried. He’s good-looking, but he might be lacking in smarts.

I exhaled impatiently. It makes no sense to go through these again. We have it all in digital files already, I grumbled, flipping through the sheets. What is this, 1984?

You can take it up with Pretty Boy yourself. Looks like he’s making the rounds, and he’s coming this way.

Great. This was who they sent? The guy looked like maybe he’d be an expert on hair products, but not necessarily business theft. We had a crook here at Peterton Financial and we needed someone who really knew their shit so we could catch the culprit. We’d been hemorrhaging buckets of money due to theft. Reviewing data printouts of losses we’d already gone over a hundred times was a waste of energy. My energy.

But the higher ups didn’t always care what I thought. Peterton Financial was a large, well-oiled machine, which meant it took a lot of busywork from little guys like me to justify the big bonuses the guys at the top raked in. I guess I’d have to shut up and let the new boss take a stab at fixing our branch’s problems. And when he failed and left, like the last two, I could get some actual work done.

"Ten bucks says he doesn’t last the week," Randy whispered, waving a bill in front of my nose.

I eyed the new guy’s perfect haircut and aquiline nose. Maybe he was tougher than he looked? Probably not, but it was only ten bucks.

You’re on.

Like taking candy from a baby, Randy said, tucking the money back in his pocket.

Lucinda Mercy, the office manager, stopped at my door with Mr. Haircut.

Taylor Williams, I’d like to introduce our new regional manager, Phillip Daniels. She smiled at me, lipstick on her teeth. Taylor is the senior financial analyst for the New York project.

Nice to meet you, Taylor. Daniels took the lead. His shake was firm, the skin of his manicured hand smooth. I got a whiff of grapefruit, lavender, and lemongrass. He smelled terrific, I wasn’t going to deny he was enticing, but he wasn’t nearly as impressed with me since his gaze appeared tepid at best.

It had been a long time since I’d met someone as good-looking as Phillip Daniels up close and personal. In fact, I hadn’t been up close and personal with anyone in quite a while. I assumed that was why my pulse sped up and I felt a little flustered standing so near to him.

I look forward to grabbing some alone-time with you. My face warmed as I realized I sounded like I was hitting on him.  I mean... you know to do work. I grimaced. His lips twitched. I assumed.

I laughed a little too loudly. Right. Pull it together.

He cleared his throat and said in a velvety tone, I see Randy dropped off the files I want you to comb through.

Yeah. I shifted uneasily. About that, we’ve got all this on the computer. I don’t need to go through the hard copies. I met his cool stare and hoped I didn’t sound as annoyed as I felt.

I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist. He lifted his chin.

I gave a surprised laugh. No, I mean it’s been done several times already in hard copy and on the computer.

He leaned toward me pointedly. Then one more time going over the physical paperwork won’t hurt anybody, will it?

I hesitated. Did he have bad hearing or something? Seems a little silly to pay me to do something I’ve already done many times. I spoke through gritted teeth, but I attempted to keep my expression pleasant.

Why don’t you let me worry about the man hours?

Looking at the same thing thirty times isn’t going to change the outcome.

I guess we’ll see. He narrowed his gaze.

Angry heat filled my face. I’m happy to look over the computer stuff again if you really want me to. But I’m not inclined to go through all those paper files when it’s not necessary.

How about you get inclined? His eyes flashed with irritation.

I sucked in a calming breath and counted to twenty. Ten wasn’t good enough. I’ll see if I can get to it.

A muscle in his jaw hardened. On the contrary, I want you to make this a top priority.

Apparently, we were now soundly engaged in a pissing contest. He might be gorgeous, but he was either dumb or an arrogant prick. "Maybe I’m not making myself clear. Let me try this one last time; these have already been gone through and saved to the computer. Everything piled on my desk right now is already scanned into the computer." I spoke slowly, in case he was having trouble understanding the big words.

Look, Taylor, is it? We need to get something straight right off the bat. I’m your boss, and I’m giving you a direct order.

I understand that, but I have a lot of work and this is a waste of my valuable time.

Until Lucinda gasped, I’d forgotten she was there. She looked nervously between Phillip and me. Um... Taylor what can it hurt to look the stuff over?

I held up my hand. With all due respect, Lucinda, I don’t think Mr. Daniels quite grasps my point.

Do you actually want to catch the thief, Taylor? Phillip snapped.

Of course I do, but—

Then you should be willing to do whatever it takes. Since you’re so familiar with the data, it shouldn’t take you long.

It’s not as simple as that. Going over all this is extremely time-consuming, I said. I have other things I need to get to. I have other deadlines.

I’m sure you’ll work it out. I expect a report ASAP.

He turned his back on me and walked to the next cubicle, perhaps to spread his good cheer elsewhere. I stared after him feeling embarrassed and irritable at his abrupt dismissal.

Wow, you like the rough stuff. Randy snickered.

Fuck off. Warmth crept under my skin, and I kept my gaze as far from the frustrating Phillip Daniels as possible.

Even though it irked the hell out of me, I worked diligently on the pile of folders Daniels had insisted I go over. Naturally Randy was no help; he left early, saying he had to see the dentist. I suppose it was possible he really did have an appointment although I was inclined to believe he was just skipping out on work.

I ran numbers so long my vision began to blur, but somehow I managed to finish. I decided to e-mail the report to Daniels seeing as his office door was closed. I figured it was safer not to hand deliver the report since I was in a foul mood, and I didn’t want to risk showing how annoyed I was about wasting my entire day. And it was a waste of time too because everything was exactly the way it had been the last four times I’d gone over the numbers. The money was still missing, and there was no trace of who stole it.

Once I finished the crap Daniels had dumped on me, I tried to work on some other stuff so I could get caught up on my regular duties. But when the cleaning crew showed up, I decided it was time to call it a night. I pulled my reading glasses off, shut down my computer, and made my way to the sleek elevators. They opened to the lobby, and I stepped out into the smooth marble entryway.

The high-rise Peterton Financial inhabited was more like a little kingdom than a building. It stood nestled among a string of other glass-and-metal giants along Sunset Boulevard. We occupied around one hundred thirty thousand square feet on the top floors. The prestige of having our business in this multiuse building came with a steep price tag. But that price afforded us with luxury suites for the executives, a state-of-the-art gym, a dry cleaner, and a Mediterranean grill. Happily enough, there were several drinking establishments in the building, and one of them was a martini lounge. The martini lounge was what interested me at the moment. It had been a rough week, and I could use a drink. Or six.

The lounge was dim, which suited me fine. I sat at the bar, a huge slab of gorgeous molasses-hued mahogany. The walls surrounding the long room were done in a fiery terra-cotta faux finish with sconces casting warm, honey-tinged light. A painting of somewhere in Tuscany hung over a large gray stone fireplace.

I loved the lounge around the holidays. It could’ve been a Norman Rockwell painting. A huge Christmas tree roped in red and silver sparkled with little white blinking lights. Polished gold ornaments poked out of its fringy branches, and a gauze angel tree topper surveyed the warm room skeptically.

We’d always had big trees at Christmas when I was a kid, but they’d been to impress my father’s business associates more than anything. I’d been lucky if my dad was even home for Christmas most years. Or unlucky.

As I listened to Bing Crosby’s soothing voice and inhaled the smell of complimentary fresh-baked gingerbread